By My Word Alone
by CoffeyJoe
Summary: AU. Bad is subjective. Free will is not as absolute as one might believe. Jaune Arc is a man with the world at his feet (most literally) and the ambition to become someone powerful, and dangerous. His motives are known to him alone, and his path is yet undecided. It's a mystery of whose cause he will champion, or will it be his own?
1. Chapter 1

I sat there, me, Jaune Arc, alone in a modestly nice house. Well furnished and three stories, complete with a master bedroom and a living room to kill for or so the neighbors say. It was the perfect place for two proud hunters to call home along with their 7 daughters.

Oh right, I nearly forgot there was me in the family as well. That fact was sometimes blurred due to the current situation between me and my folks, namely the one where they were in the process of disowning me. I guess I really never lived up to their expectations I suppose, and to that effect I could see where they were coming from. Even the worst of my sisters still knew how to swing a sword better than me, and the art of swordsmanship has been passed down for so long through the generations an Arc unable to use one would be considered heresy.

And guess who the lucky boy is who can't swing a sword worth shit. I never really knew what it was, it felt like a million small things that added together to make swinging a sword feel clunky and immovable. And, you know, the Arcs have always been a tremendously proud family, upholding family traditions and all that, so I guess I really should have seen this coming.

Although, like all obvious truths, telling myself that didn't really make me feel better. Dear old dad, solemn patriarch of the family and all that jazz, was honor bound by centuries of Arc tradition to throw me to the wolves, both literally and metaphorically in a sense. My old man was a complicated fella like that, I don't think him kicking me out really bit him too hard, but at the same I could kinda tell he wished he didn't have to do it. Doesn't change the fact I still hate him, you know that kinda hate that just simmers and won't go away?

Then of course there's mom, don't even get me started on that. She was always enamoured with people like my dad, heroic and knightly. The kinda of idiot who charges into problems head first and would slay legions of Grimm to save one damsel. It happened to be that damsel was my mom, so when they got hitched it was like her fairy tale come true you know? She loved us, or atleast she loved _me_ when I was younger, but when it finally become obvious I'd never be a charming and brave knight like her dear husband, mom dropped me like a sack of Goliath shit.

Maybe it pained her to see me excommunicated, maybe it didn't. In my opinion it's poor form to try and rationalize how someone is feeling, just like with the sword emotions are made of millions of tiny little pieces that come together to form a big intricate ball of pain-in-my-ass-ery. So yeah, they both decided to dump me out of our (formerly) happy little home.

My sisters, for lack of a better word, were cunts. Self-righteous, pretentious, holier-than-thou, run-of-the-mill, Grade-A Arc family cunts. And that's all I have to say about that.

I'm rambling I know, Mindy always said that was my only talent, but I feel it's important to get some context as to why I have a pair of packed bags next to me. I fiddle with the silver metal box in my hand, flicking the cap off and on with a satisfying _chink!._ Yep, the only thing my family saw fit to give me was this nifty little lighter. It was essentially useless save for the fact that it was imbued with dust that made the flames glow the color of my aura.

I flicked the ignition switch and watched a rich purple flame dance away in front of me. It was a pretty color if you were to ask me, I'm biased I know, it was the kind of color you could just get lost in if you stared long enough. Fitting in a way I suppose.

I closed the cap and hiked up the duffel bags next to me. I pulled my black coat tighter over my already bundled frame, a purple flannel peaking out between a grey shirt and my jacket. It was crisp out there tonight, but I'd make it just fine. I left the door open on my way out (fuck you and your heating bills) and started treading towards town. If I made it in time I'd get a discount for the early-early-bird special at Bluebell's Diner. Ms. Bluebell always did like me, maybe even would have adopted me if I wanted to stay in this town.

It just wasn't in the cards I'm afraid, still though Ms. Bluebell was a sweet old woman. Reminded me a lot of Grandma when she was still around, but that's besides the point. I see a car pull up next to me, just a red pickup, and down rolls the window to reveal a man dressed in camo.

"Hey son, you hitchhiking tonight?" he asked, flipping up the bill of his hat.

I nodded casually. "Sure am, need a ride to Tansy about 7 miles from here."

He chewed on something in his mouth. "Well, I'm getting off in about 3 but I suppose I could save you some time. That alright?"

I sniffed the air, wondering if I should inconvenience this kind man. Whatever, it's colder than a Warlock's ballsack out here.

"No, you're going to drive me to Bluebell's Diner on 4th and Main."

He blinked owlishly for a moment, like he wasn't sure what I just said, before he returned to smiling and flipping up his cap. "Tansy it is, hop in son."

Aw yes, mind control what a wonderful semblance...

0-0-0-0

Bluebell's Diner, the last thing I'd ever thought I'd stop to see before I was booted out. I entered through the white push door and ignored the cheery jingle, the whole place was similar in style to a retro 50s drive in, only instead of the common red theme it was wholly decked out in blue.

"Hold on just a minute sugar!" came the cheery voice of Ms. Bluebell. I could hear her futzing in the kitchen with this or that, and, considering it was about 11 PM, I wasn't surprised to find her not on the counter.

Suddenly, interrupting my thoughts, she wheeled herself out carrying a small platter of doughnuts. She had the usual smile on her face that seemed to glow against her dark skin, hair all done up in a hairnet like how I always saw her.

I think it took a moment for her to recognize me, because her cheery smile morphed into a concerned frown when she saw me with my duffel bugs and such. She set the silver tray down and came to the counter and beckoned me over.

By the time I walked over there the wheels in her head had stopped turning and recognition sparked on her face. She chewed her lip for a moment as I came closer, honestly just wanting some coffee and food.

"Hey Ms-" I never finished what I was about to say as she pulled me into a fierce hug, like she was afraid if she let go I'd disappear from reality.

"Oh sugar I'm sorry." she said, voice shuddering. Ms. Bluebell always was a real people person like that, she never could stand to see someone mistreated and I suppose that's why I liked her.

"Ms. Bluebell, you need to let me go." she did, of course, but still looked me up and town with a sort of proud sadness, like a parent seeing their child off to college.

"Well," she said, hand on the counter. "Look at my handsome little boy all grown up and ready to take on the world."

I smiled and it felt all too weary to be genuine. "Yeah Ms. Bluebell, time to leave the nest so-to-speak. Just wanted to stop in for some food before I hit the road, you know?"

She nodded, wiping something from her eye. "Yep, and food you shall have. It's on the house sweetheart, so don't worry about it."

I sighed, knowing I couldn't say no to her. It didn't change the fact I'd force her to take the money, business was hard enough on a town outside the kingdoms, even in a well protected one like Tansy. Ms. Bluebell went about and prepared what I always ordered here for my birthday: a stack of pancakes with powdered sugar and bananas, a plate of scrambled eggs, and toast with jam.

As I ate with gusto I couldn't help feel some sudden wave of melancholy, not exactly regret or betrayal. I was far beyond that by now, but I suppose the realization that these little interactions would be left behind as I walked out of the diner. Idly I wondered what Edgar and Finn would do without me to copy off of, but I'm sure they'd be just fine.

"So, where do you think you'll go sugar?" Ms. Bluebell asked tentatively, fingers drumming the counter. I could see why she was so apprehensive, she probably thought I was a lot more torn up than I looked.

"Vale most likely, I'm thinking of getting into business over there." I said coolly, I had had plenty of time to look over my options and came to the most logical conclusion.

A nice, manipulative semblance like mine in a city as big as Vale? Yeah, I know what kind of business I'd get into all right. I suppose that made me a bad person, but I never really believed in such black-and-white things like good and evil. Cliche villain dialogue I know, but the way I saw I was just playing the cards the universe had dealt me on a whim.

Ms. Bluebell smiled wistfully, eyes misted over slightly. "Well I know you're just going to kill it over there hun, but I want you to promise me one thing."

"And what is that?"

She sniffed emotionally (and a little dramatically if you asked me). "You come on back here for the holidays barring if you have any other immediate plans. I want to see my baby boy all grown up and professional-like."

And you know, for the first time in a series of emotionally-crisp nights alone, I cracked a smile even if did feel a little tired. "Of course ma'am, you hold down the fort for me while I'm gone."

Ms. Bluebell nodded tiredly before pulling me into one last bone-crushing hug. I had long since finished my food, and, unfortunately, that meant it was time for me to shove off into the world.

Walking out onto the chilly night street, I could kinda appreciate this locale. I always was a night owl, preferring to walk around when the sun goes down and all that. Maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was how that messy swath of stars and colors was smeared above me, like a painting. I think I liked how it made me feel, that is, an infinitesimal part of some bigger picture. When I was kid I'd always wonder things like "do you think there are Grimm on other planets?" or "Do you think there is dust on other planets?".

I guess it's in the nature of kids to try and compare something unknown to something they know.

I spotted a car moving slowly down the way, the red pickup giving away it's owner even before I stepped in front of it, and when I blocked its path the window rolled down only for one Albus Chronish to start jabbering away about something or other. Al was kinda of the town jock, and also a major pain in the ass, so I could say that this didn't exactly pain me.

"Fucking god Jaune! The hell is your dumb ass doing stepping in front of my car like some-"

"Shut it." I responded evenly, Albus did just that without so much as a sound. "Unlock the doors you're driving me to the bullhead docks in Pastel."

He did of course, and he did so without complaint if only by virtue of my semblance. My semblance. What a bag of tricks it was, huh? You see, my aura emitted an especially powerful wavelength that reacted with one's brain and sensory organs. Whittling it down into the barebones stuff, if I told someone to do something and they were close enough they'd follow my order to the letter.

I suppose I could've used it on my parents, but my semblance was only really suited for giving out orders. I could plant impressions and emotions into someone's head with relative ease, but the thing is I'd need to keep replanting it over and over again for it to really stick.

The neon lights of various shops and streetlights illuminated the cab of the truck as some soft, melodic song played on the radio. In some distant corner of my mind I could feel sleep tug at my brain, so it was with a heady yawn I leaned back in my seat.

"Al, wake me up when we get there and make it snappy." I ordered, not really paying attention to him as the song took me away into a comfortable darkness.

When I awoke to Al tapping me lightly I could say I was a little disoriented. We got there faster than expected so this meant I could make good time to Vale -that is if nothing went wrong-.

"Go home Albus." I ordered finally as I took out my bags. The Pastel Bullhead Transit Port wasn't so bustling as it would be in a few hours, no I had caught the graveyard shift at a comfy 2 A.M., so it was with great satisfaction that I cleared the baggage area without having to order a bunch of people.

"Hello sir," the attendant at the boarding shuttle said in a practiced "nice voice" as she held out her hand. "Ticket please?"

"I don't need one, tell the pilots we need to talk" I ordered, not bothering to slow my approach as she stepped aside and began to call up the pilots. I heard their confused mumblings from behind me but as I boarded the small ship I saw two uniformed men approach me.

"Evening, or rather morning sir. How can we help you?" the bigger of the two, the captain I suspected, asked in the same tone as the attendant.

"Prepare the shuttle for takeoff, we're leaving for Vale now." they both blinked once, before moving into the cockpit and getting ready for lift off. Good. We'd make it to Vale in time for me to get a room somewhere nice. The bullhead jostled, as did my stomach, as the metallic beast moaned in its take off. Soon enough, we were gliding through the air as I let the nausea of motion sickness and early morning jet lag that had already begun to set in take me away once more.

"...Si-...-ir?... -Sir?..." I was stirred by one of the flight attendants who had taken to shaking me slightly. "Sir, we have arrived at Vale."

"What time is it?" I asked blearily, a stray ray of early sunshine caught me right in the eyes sending jabbing pain through my head.

"I believe the clock read 8:14, sir."

"Good, go away now." I yawned, in no mood for pleasantries. She nodded and walked off as I grabbed my things and exited the bullhead. People stared slightly at only one man exiting a bullhead but I couldn't care less, I needed somewhere nice to hit the hay.

 **20 minutes later...**

Vale had an alright selection of fine accommodations for me, but none of them seemed to be my exact atmosphere. Somewhere nice and cozy, but without all the high-class pomposity that many had. Finally, after spending way too long searching, I found it: The Den it had been titled. A cozy looking place that seemed a mix between high-class bar and log cabin.

Perfect.

As I approached I saw some young twenty-something man approach me from the corner of my eye. Now it's important to take note I was a little grungy from the flight, sickness, and jet lag.

"Dear me young man, but I believe you are in the wrong district." he nearly sneered with a kind of faux-nicety and definitely authentic superiority. "I believe the _residential_ districts are to the south."

I blinked at him once. Twice. I took note of his expensive-looking chai bullshit in his hand. "Tell me, what is that?"

"This? This is the new chai mocha latte from-"

"Throw it in your face."

he did so without complaint or what even looked like understanding before he was turned into a wailing heap of rich idiot. I was tired and a little pissy, I did not need Mr. Morbucks fucking up my day anymore. Ignoring the gathering concerned folk I walked in The Den and up to the front desk.

"Good morning sir!" the clerk greeted me. "Would you like a room?"

"Yes, your best and for free."

He smiled once more. "Of course, that is the penthouse on the top floor and here is your key. Would you like us to take your bags Mr...?"

"Fitzgerald, and yes please." I said, already rolling with my pseudonym of "Rohan Fitzgerald". "Don't tell anyone I'm staying here."

"Of course Mr. Fitzgerald."

The clerk wasn't lying, this place was swanky. Nice, rich mahogany walls, complementary mini-bar, and a king sized bed with memory foam pillows. I would be a poor liar if I said this didn't get me jazzed, a nice hot shower and some time to myself alone would be much appreciated.

Now, about seeing this Junior fellow...

0-0-0-0

Despite being the capital of, well, _Vale,_ the actual _city_ of Vale was host to any number of seedy places. So I suppose that didn't make it any different than other cities, but, personally, I believe the more well-to-do people of Vale forget that fact sometimes.

One of those aforementioned seedy places was a bar and, ahem, _hotel_ that was operated by one Hei Xiong. Normally this place wouldn't have even crossed my radar, but since I had had some time before I got kicked out I perused the various forums and websites of Vale and its businesses until this place came up consistently.

Most reviews and posts talked about wild spring breaks and questionable people seen coming and going, but I knew the guy who owned this place knew someone with connections. Of course it would be really great if this Mr. Xiong -or rather, Junior as I was lead to believe- just knew something of important himself, because that would make my life a whole lot easier.

But as I walked into the club I didn't hold many good wishes of that happening. I felt that I've always had a knack for knowing when a plan is going to fall through, but this was still my only shot at getting started. The club itself was something to behold, now I was never much of a clubber myself but I could tell this place was expensive to say the least. Red glass, strobe lights, and fancy liquor abound everywhere, not to mention the swath of goonish security that seemed to mill around the dancers and drinkers of the establishment.

Ignoring them my eyes scanned the club for anyone of note. Almost immediately I saw two rather stunning women catch my eye, they were dressed like peacocks in shades of white and red but goddamn if they weren't something to marvel at.

Hey, I'm still a teenage boy you know.

I pinned them down as Junior's personal guards, Melanie and Miltiades, who were responsible for any customer that couldn't be handled by the thugs around the bar. I noticed the two were leaning against said bar and seemingly complaining to a burly man in a large black suit. Black beard, looks like a bear, and about a foot taller than me, yep that must be Junior.

I slipped between the guards, waiters, and dancers to close in on my target. I sidled up next to the bar and took a seat in front of the man himself who eyed me wearily, as if he was afraid I blow down the entire club.

"Can I help you kid? You see a little young for this place." he snorted, cleaning a mug. I was vaguely aware of his two guards closing in on my sides. I figure I should address that sooner rather than later.

"You two. Beat it." and with that simple command, Melanie and Miltiades sashayed away off into the club. Junior looked dumbfounded, staring between me and the escaping girls for a moment before his hand grasped for something underneath the table.

"Stop." I told him simply, Junior freezing in place. "I'm only here for information so relax."

Junior hesitantly moved away from whatever was underneath the bar before going back to cleaning glasses.

"So," he asked. "What can I do you for sir?"

"I need you tell me about someone who could get me into the criminal underworld. No small fries, I want someone with real pull in the game, you know?" I ordered easily, Junior blinked before rubbing a hand on his chin.

"Well, the only person like that in Vale would be Roman Torchwick, he has eyes and ears all over the city."

"Where can I find him?"

"I don't quite know, he came in not too long ago to take some of my men but beyond that we haven't truly talked much." Now, if I wasn't absolutely sure of my semblance's power I might have taken him for liar. But luckily my semblance works through lies as easily as breathing.

"Roman Torchwick huh?" I mused for myself, maybe I'd do a little research on my own and see what came up-

"Hey barkeep, I got a question!" came a ear-scathingly obnoxious voice from behind me. I turned around to find a beautiful blonde girl standing behind me, arms crossed and a smirk on her face.

"What do you want?" Junior grunted, apparently displeased with her as I was.

"Now don't be like that cutie! All I want to know is if you've seen this woman?" she asked cutely, holding up a picture of remarkably resemblance to her. A mother or sister or something of like that had flown the nest so to speak.

"Hey, we were in the middle of talking to how about you buzz off?" I jabbed, turning her smirk into a scowl. You see, my semblance really only worked with direct commands, wording things slightly differently gave them no effect. It's something I've gotten good at over the years.

"Hey, who do you think-" she began to spout before I cut her off.

"Run as fast as you can out the window and never come back you sow." I snapped, losing my temper. I hated when people interrupted me like that, it's so rude!

I watched blondie take a nose dive out the window to a scream of some little girl outside before deciding to call it a night. I was gonna need some rest if I were to find this Torchwick fellow.

Hey, every journey starts with a single step right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, just a little AN here. I was wondering if anyone was willing to be a beta for a few of my stories, nothing big but I feel like my writing can be a bit contrived at times. So, I figured having someone else will balance it out. Thanks by the way.**

 **Love you guys so much,**

 **XOXOXO**

 **CoffeyJoe**

0-0-0-0

The odor at the docks was rather... unique in that it reminded me of something from the lowest rung of Hell.

I felt my features tighten in disgust and I sighed wearily, when I'm a crime boss I won't ever have to degrade myself like this ever again. I had been combing the underbelly of this godforsaken city, using my semblance for information, for over 7 hours now, say what you will about this Torchwick fellow but when he didn't want to be found, you would never find him.

Eventually, and with luck from the gods themselves, I finally came upon this warehouse. Innocuous to the naked eye, but I suppose that's why it was a den of thieves, criminals, and all other manner of unsavory folk. I crouched down behind a spare mound of debris and garbage to do a scan of the scene; nothing was really out of the ordinary, and I'm sure I could approach just fine, but I had a feeling that getting _into_ the warehouse would prove a lot more difficult.

I crept slowly closer to one of the side doors, a thick steel-reinforced thing with a small slot for the eyes of the person behind the door.

 _How cliche_ I thought, eyes narrowing as I banged a fist onto the door. A few seconds later the latch opened to reveal a pair of mistrusting brown eyes who, in turn, narrowed themselves at me.

"Get loss kid before I fucking gut you." he growled out, apparently irritated at my... untimely approach.

"Open the door and let me inside." I said calmly, biting down the desire to tell him to go fuck himself.

Never making that mistake again...

The door opened after a cartoonishly large amount of lock openings and he lead me into the nerve center of whatever operation this was. He lead me up a small catwalk that overlooked the entire warehouse floor where men dressed it street clothes ran back and forth, arms full of crates and weapons and what appeared to be cases of dust? Speaking of which, there was a _lot_ of dust cases in this warehouse. I mean enough that it would have made international news if the police busted this place and got this gang's full score.

I nudged my guide and he turned to look at me. "What's with all the dust?"

The gorilla faunus just kinda shrugged. "From what I hear? It's all for the overboss, apparently he's gonna need this stuff for some science project he's doing. But, I'm just a grunt so they don't tell me much."

"Well at least you know your job. But wait, what do you mean overboss?" I asked, from my (admittedly limited) knowledge of gang hierarchy I didn't think _overboss_ was a rank used all that much.

"Hmm?" he spied me from the corner of his eye. "Yeah, the overboss. The kind've boss of bosses, y'know? Fancy guy in a suit and cane came waltzing in here a few months back and declared us all under his employ. Of course our old boss didn't take too kindly to that and naturally tried killing him, aaaannnnd the new guy who replaced him was a lot more... docile about being under the employ of someone else."

Fancy guy with a cane? Sounds like someone whose name rhymes with "Bowman Porchslick". But damn Roman if he wasn't slick, using satellite gangs to move his shit? That's ingenuity, if this operation got busted they could never get it back to the _actual_ guy in charge, the regional manager would take the fall and I'm guessing Torchwick had more than one of these going on in the city.

But, perhaps he'd drop by and visit, especially if I orchestrated a little chaos to catch his eye. Unfortunately, the ground-level guards had started to take notice of the ragged 17 year old who was standing next to the door guard like I was on a factory tour.

"Take me to the guy who runs this place." I ordered, not taking my eyes off some of the more curious guards.

"Your the boss." He shrugged, a tad sardonically which had me cocking my head in confusion. Last time I checked my thralls did not give me much back chat, but this guy was something new.

We walked along the catwalk before we ended up near some manager's office, a blue door marking the entrance. The thug next to me sniffed and shrugged a muscled shoulder at the decrepit office.

"There it is boss, head in when you're ready." he lazily waved a hand back at me as he left leaving me to just stare perplexed at his back.

I shook my head and walked through the door, not bothering to knock, after all...

I was his new employer.

The man sitting behind the desk shot up, clearly not expecting any interruptions. He was wearing a normal three piece suit that must've been at least moderately expensive, but still probably cost more than I'd ever made. The man himself a mid thirty something guy with a set of claw marks going down the right side of his head, permanently shaving off some of the oiled black hair.

"And who the _fuck_ are you?" he spat, jerking his chin in my direction.

"Don't talk to me like that." I started off before shaking my head. "Anyways I'm looking for your boss, perhaps by the name of Torchwick?"

Mr Whatever-The-Fuck blinked at me before nodding slowly and sitting down. "Y-Yeah, he runs this show around here and I stand-in for him."

"Could you contact him?" I asked, perhaps a tad hopefully.

"No, he tells me what to do and if something happens he always knows. Always." the crime boss in front of me stated with certainty.

Well, that would complicate things I suppose. C'est la vie I suppose, so it was time to go with the much lengthier and much more painstakingly annoying Plan B.

"Well I guess it's good I'm your new boss, and here's the new score pal." I said, taking a seat on the corner of the desk. "You see buddy, can I call you buddy? Anyways, what I need you to do is tell your men downstairs that I'm acting as a stand-in for Torchwick, and my word is now law."

Buddy just shrugged and got up from the fine desk to trudge outside and begin to address his men. I followed him at a slight distance just in case his loyal soldiers decided a mutiny was the next best bet as he whistled to get their attention. A few workers, already a little wary of my entry, turned their full attention to their boss who cleared his throat once before he started talking.

"There's been a small shift in management fellas. From now on, we're going to be listening to this guy as he acting on Roman Torchwick's behalf, so I want you all to follow his orders." The man said, eyes roaming over the crowd of thugs for any sign of discrepancy.

When it became apparent that the gang members had accepted their new overlord, the boss nodded and returned to me. I waved him back into the office before shutting the door and taking a seat across from him.

"What did Roman need all this dust for?" I asked, to be honest that fact just now hit me. I mean, being a criminal kingpin with a shitload of dust made sense in its own right, but this seemed like a little bit of a gamble for just getting some more firepower.

The scarred man shrugged. "Dunno, he barely told me anything other than he would need it in a business venture he was going into. He's not exactly the type of guy to go spewing information to anyone he employs."

Ok, fair enough I suppose. But a business venture? Somehow I didn't think this was a large-scale charity donation, so I could only really imagine that this "venture" was one of a criminal sort.

"Well, at least he won't miss too much of this dust then." I mused to myself before regarding my subordinate. "Get the grunts to start hauling some of the nastiest dust we have into a secure location. I think I'd like to have a bit of fireworks to celebrate the first step on my journey to criminal kingpin. You can go downstairs and join the others as well, consider yourself an honorary member of their family from now on."

He nodded and got up from his chair to start barking orders at the others. Meanwhile I took a seat at the expensive desk where he had formerly sat and just took in all the grandeur. I'm not ashamed to admit I basked in a small surge of childlike excitement, I mean come on, this was just a taste of what I could have one day! Idly I flicked through the drawers to see if there was anything worth taking until I came upon a small wooden box. Opening it up revealed its contents to be a row of fine cigars, the ones from Vacuo, which I picked out like it was a newborn.

This was it, all the times I had dreamt of myself in this position and it was finally happening. On a smaller scale of course, but nonetheless this was it! I like to think few people can achieve their childhood dream in the fullest like I did. I put the cigar in my mouth and fiddled around in my coat pocket for my lighter which flicked on with its eerie purple glow. I lit the cancerous stick and took a full puff like I saw those guys in the movies do.

And promptly coughed my lungs out.

Whatever, it was my first time smoking such a hefty thing. I think I was allowed a little trial and error, so note to self: when indulging in your first cigar, do not take a long drag on it. I regained some air into my lungs and tried again, only on a much, much smaller scale in comparison. To be honest, it was kind of nice, it's not everyday you get to enjoy one these you know. I sat there, lightly puffing on the cigar and enjoying it, it tasted almost like cinnamon with just a hint of smoke and it smelled rather nice if I was being honest.

I could get used to this...

0-0-0-0

My loud snoring was awoken by a surly hand shaking me awake sometime in the morning. The last thing I blearily remembered was falling asleep in the cushy warehouse office last night after drinking some of the former boss's liquor. The door guard that showed me in yesterday looked less than impressed at my visage but waited for me to say something.

"W-What is it?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. "This had better be important."

The imposing faunus shrugged. "Yeah, well, we got the dust set up like you wanted. It's in a place on the trashier side of Vale, so it's not likely there'll be many cops around to bust us before we begin."

Oh, right, my grand plan for getting Torchwick here. In hindsight it seemed a little bit rash, I wasn't sure if lighting a bunch of explosives off in a ghetto would attract attention like I had hoped it would. In that, instead of Torchwick coming here, I'd have VCPD busting down my door with an army of SWAT and hunters. I thought about it for a moment before sighing.

"Get the dust back here, I've rethought my attack plan." I said lazily, waving a hand at him. The big thug shrugged again like it wasn't his problem, which, true, it wasn't, and turned to leave before I stopped him.

"What's your name again?" I asked, the gorilla faunus seemed mildly surprised that I asked but answered anyway.

"Hmm? It's Ignacio, boss." he responded shortly before he exited my office.

I leaned back in the chair as I watched him leave my line of site, looking back this might be trickier than I imagined. As great as it would be for Torchwick to swing by here with all his wealth and tricks and then be immediately caught under my spell while simultaneously not alerting the police would be great, my luck was kinda shit. Maybe I was thinking about this the wrong way, maybe I should take it slow and steady, build up my reserves before going in for the kill.

Torchwick might not be the strongest guy I ever knew, but the bastard was crafty and clever beyond all recognition. He knew things that could end a lot of careers if they got out, and you didn't become that kind of person overnight. Meanwhile, I was more of a novice than anything, a novice with a potent semblance to be sure but a novice none the less. If this guy found out what my semblance was, he could very well have an assassin just snipe me from a distance when my guard is down, so it would be best to play things close to my chest.

I rubbed my temples tiredly, I had just woken up and already my plans had gone to hell and been refused at the gates. Then, I got an idea, one that sprung from sheer desperation than anything else. If Torchwick had satellite gangs working underneath him so that they couldn't be traced back to him, then that means there's more than a few operations like this around the city. Information couldn't be traced back up to the top sure, but that blade could cut both ways if he wasn't careful, yes this got me thinking a bit.

Stepping outside my office I motioned for the former boss to meet me up here. Entering in he wiped his forehead, probably tired from moving dust around, and motioned for me to speak.

"Did you know about any other gangs like this one here, one's that Torchwick was using?" I asked, studying his face. He took a moment to think about it, trying to dredge up something from that empty skull of his no doubt, before he snapped his fingers.

"Yeah, he told me he had some in almost every neighborhood in Vale." He fished out his scroll and tapped on it to open up a navigation map. "There's two in Highrock, one in Saint Christi, I think four in Metro Gardens, and another one in Hillsbrad."

A total of eight gangs, huh? A good number, especially if he was just robbing dust, and conveniently spread out across almost the entirety of Vale, so pretty much he had a safehouse in every part of the city. But with all those people, why did Torchwick go through the trouble of actually putting himself at risk when he robbed these small-scale dust shops? A distraction maybe, but even so there were less dangerous ways to do it unless it was a part of his plan from the get-go.

I don't know, the whole situation felt funny in a way I didn't like, but there wasn't a whole lot else to do. I looked at the former boss, who was still standing there, and sighed tiredly again.

"Just... take me to the nearest hideout." I waved to him, slowly getting up with a grunt. "Oh, and have some guys pick up my stuff from my hotel room, it's on the west side of the..."

0-0-0-0

Man, I thought, I should've gone to this hideout. Instead of some dirty, filthy warehouse on the docks it appeared to be a spacious office building on the East side of St. Christi Boulevard. My subordinate guided me inside where a few well-dressed people were already waiting for me, the most prominent being a ginger woman in a white suit and black shirt.

"So, I heard Torchwick wanted to arrange a little meeting?" she asked, gazing at my sharply. She probably wasn't too happy to being dealing with what she thought was the hired help, but I didn't care.

"Shut it, I'm your new boss now and what I say goes, understand?" I ordered, some of the suited apes around me shifting slightly. The ginger woman blinked once, twice, before nodding her head slowly.

"Ok, what did you need?" She asked professionally, hands crossed behind her back.

"What was Torchwick having you all do while you were under him?" I needed to make sure this was a common theme before I implemented my plan.

"He was having us steal and import large shipping crates of dust, just like the other branches." she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He'd swing by every few weeks to make sure we were on schedule before leaving."

"I don't suppose you know where his main base is?" I asked just a tad hopefully. She shrugged and shook her head which sent a small wave of aching pain through my skull as I took a deep breath.

"So be it. Keep things on the down low here for now." I ordered, turning to the gang boss that drove me here. "Take me to the other branches, now."

He nodded and we walked off, bouncing around Vale and meeting with the other gang bosses. I thanked the heavens above for my semblance, I could only imagine the hell it would be to try and pull this off without it. I had to word things carefully, enough so that I wouldn't have to come back everyday to remind them that I'm their boss, but instead implanting a general concept of who they were working for. As long as they didn't pay it much thought, we wouldn't have any problems.

As we finished our rounds, I caught myself thinking, in the car, that this whole "criminal kingpin" thing was a lot of boring and tedious work. I get that one has to start from the ground up, but this was awful. It felt like I was filing paperwork; paperwork that walked around and asked annoying, stupid questions. Perhaps I was making light of things, I was 17 and had already found myself in the clutches of a deeply rooted criminal empire.

As we passed by the scenic view of Beacon Academy another stray thought flung into my brain. What if I had just opted to become a hunter like my family did? It's not like my family really tainted the idea of being a hunter, they were just pricks about everything. But I though the better of it, how on Remnant was I going to infiltrate Beacon Academy with no real credentials? What, do I just waltz up to some forger and tell him to make me some documents to get me into the academy? What was I going to use for that, my semblance?

...

Well, fuck. Oh well, no use crying over spilled future now I guess. And who knows, maybe one day I'd just decide to become a huntsman, with my power my job opportunities were fairly nebulous. I'd order someone to train me in fighting (note to self) and then I'd just act like I had actually gone to an academy before traveling the world slaying monsters. By that time I should be rich off my ass from all my criminal endeavors so what was it to buy or make some hunter weapons, right?

I leaned back into the cozy leather seat, absently watching the sun fall over the glistening city. It was times like this that reminded me we were all still human, you know? We all got that red goo of life called blood running through us, no matter what I did it would never be personal. I thought about my family back home, did dad sit there some nights in his recliner idly wondering where his son went?

Did Bruna look out of the her dorm in Shade Academy to imagine herself meeting her long-lost brother one day? Maybe, maybe not, but I can't say the thought didn't fill me with just a tad of heartache. I knew I wasn't normal, not really, I didn't process emotions and the needs and wants of others like most normal folk do. I didn't really care if someone got sad after I stole their lunch, I was hungy and that's all that mattered.

My mind slowly drifted back to a place where these thoughts didn't pester me so much.

0-0-0-0

 **Hey guys, Joe here. Happy New Years to everyone who reads and I hope you had some good holidays and I hope you have an even better new year. I love you guys a lot, and I hope you're enjoying my writing. Sometimes it feels rushed, childish, a little boring or contrived, but it does my heart some good to see reviews that tell me they love my stories.**

 **Seriously, I can't thank you all enough for this. "The Family Business" is really taking off so let me know if you want that to be my new main story, meanwhile this little diddy is going to be more for my own fun than anything else. What will Jaune do? Who will he side with? The mysteries are intense I know.**

 **I might be holding another poll for the next "An Arc's Mad World" chapter so stay tuned for that.**

 **XOXOXO**

 **CoffeyJoe**


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